Chapter 164: A Clue
When Marcus Flint saw Rosier attack Wednesday, he cursed under his breath.
Idiot.
Cold sweat broke out across his back.
If you want to die, jump off the Astronomy Tower—don't drag me into it.
The Addams Family was not someone you provoked lightly.
Even at his peak, Lord Voldemort had never made a move against them. Instead, he had tried to win them over.
They had refused.
And yet—he hadn't retaliated.
Of course, that was partly because the Addams family had never stood in his way. If they had…
With Voldemort's temperament, he would never have let it go.
Flint had no intention of getting caught in the fallout.
The moment Wednesday was struck off her broom, he immediately pulled up hard and distanced himself from the scene.
But then—
he saw Russell.
Losing control.
Attacking Rosier like a man possessed.
And suddenly—
Flint felt a surge of excitement.
Perfect.
He had been wondering how to deal with Russell—
and now Russell had handed him the perfect opportunity.
Using dark magic.
Injuring a fellow student.
That's expulsion material.
As for Rosier?
Flint couldn't care less.
If anything, he silently wished him luck—
Good luck surviving the Addams family's revenge.
Despite the chaos—
the result of the match didn't change.
Gryffindor had still defeated Slytherin.
Later, Harry Potter, Ron, and Hermione Granger gathered in Rubeus Hagrid's hut, drinking his strong tea.
"I've never seen Russell like that before…"
Ron shivered slightly as he spoke.
"In my mind, he's always smiling—calm, polite… Even when he's angry, he just goes quiet."
"But today…"
"It was like looking at a different person."
"A stranger."
"And a scary one at that."
Even from a distance, the coldness Russell gave off had been unmistakable.
Harry, however, didn't feel quite the same.
Maybe because he wasn't as close to Russell as Ron was.
"Honestly, Rosier brought it on himself," Harry said, shrugging as he blew on his tea.
"He tried to smash my head in with a bat earlier."
"And Wednesday's our friend too."
"I'm not worried about that," Hermione said, frowning.
"I'm worried about Russell."
"What he did—out in the open, in front of everyone…"
"What if he gets expelled?"
That made both Harry and Ron pause.
Concern immediately replaced everything else.
"No—we have to do something."
Harry shot to his feet.
"I'm going to talk to Professor Minerva McGonagall. Ask her to speak to Professor Albus Dumbledore."
"I'll come with you," Ron added quickly.
"We both saw it—Rosier started it."
Hermione hesitated for only a moment—
then nodded firmly.
She was about to follow them—
when Hagrid suddenly interrupted:
"Hold on a second…"
There wasn't a trace of worry on Hagrid's face.
"Don't panic so much," he said casually.
"You've got to remember—Russell has two Orders of Merlin. Professor Albus Dumbledore isn't going to expel him that easily."
He set down a large plate of rock cakes in front of them, completely unaware of the grim looks spreading across their faces.
"And besides, he didn't start it," Hagrid continued.
"Rosier was the one in the wrong. And knowing Russell… if he acted like that, he must've already thought through how to handle the consequences."
Hermione Granger stared at Hagrid with a strange expression, hesitating.
Hagrid noticed.
"Go on then, Hermione—what is it?"
"…Alright."
She paused, then finally asked:
"When did you get so smart?"
Hagrid burst out laughing.
"I've known Russell longer than you lot," he said proudly.
"I understand him better."
"That's exactly why he beat Corvey last year."
"He never fights a battle he hasn't prepared for."
"That… actually makes sense," Harry Potter muttered.
Then something clicked.
He turned to Ron.
"Your rat—Scabbers—it's the same thing, isn't it?"
"It hid for years at your house and no one noticed…"
"But Russell still managed to catch it."
Ron's face immediately turned miserable.
"Harry… please don't bring that up again."
He still couldn't get over it.
After all—
when he was little…
he'd even kissed Scabbers.
The thought made his stomach churn instantly.
With Russell's matter temporarily set aside, the conversation shifted.
The fire beneath the kettle flickered, casting shifting light across the room. Ron's freckles glowed red in the heat.
"It was definitely Severus Snape!" Ron insisted, finally breaking open a rock cake with all his strength.
Crumbs scattered across an old copy of the Daily Prophet, which Hagrid was using as a placemat. The headline showed the Gringotts break-in from the day Harry first visited Diagon Alley.
"Hermione saw it—I saw it too!"
"Snape was jinxing Harry's broom! His lips were moving nonstop, and he kept staring at Harry like he wanted him dead!"
"Rubbish!"
Hagrid slammed his teacup onto the table.
"Why would Professor Snape want to hurt Harry? He and Harry—"
He suddenly stopped.
As if he'd said too much.
But the three of them didn't notice
Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged glances.
They hesitated—
then Harry decided to tell the truth.
Everything.
"We saw Snape," Harry said carefully,
"sneaking up to the fourth floor alone, just before Halloween."
"He was trying to get past that three-headed dog."
"It bit him."
He took a sip of tea, steadying himself.
"And when I went to get my book back, I saw Russell treating his wound in the office."
"We think…"
"…he's trying to steal whatever that dog is guarding."
Hagrid stared at them—
eyes wide as saucers.
"How d'you know about Fluffy?"
he demanded.
"Don't tell me you lot broke school rules and went pokin' around there too?"
Then he frowned, confused.
"Harry and Ron, I can understand… but Hermione?"
"Why would you break the rules?"
"Fluffy?"
Hermione's eyes sharpened instantly.
"You mean… that three-headed dog?"
In that moment—
she realized something important.
Hagrid knew.
And more than that—
there was a very good chance…
Fluffy was his.